The Birds and the Bees
by melchiorgabor
Summary: My first fanfic. What if Wendla lost her innocence? What would happen if Moritz didn't die? How would Melchior take a rejection to his advances to Wendla? Rated T for now. Please read and review!
1. Persistence

My first fanfic. I absolutely loved this idea when I first came up with it. I'm not sure where this story is going to take me but I'm just going to grab onto the reigns and see what happens.

**Persistence  
**

Frau Bergmann put down the letter she had just finished reading and went in to tell her daughter, Wendla, the wonderful news.

"Wendla!" she said smiling as she entered the child's room.

"Mama?" Wendla looked surprised; apparently she had just finished getting dressed.

"Goodness," her mother said in shock, "look at you-in that…Kindergarten dress! Wendla, grown-up girls cannot be seen strutting about in such-"

"Let me wear this one, Mama!" Wendla said enthusiastically, cutting her mother off. "I love this one. It makes me feel like a little…Faerie-queen." Wendla turned around to show her mother. Frau Bergmann only saw her daughters developing breasts.

"But you're already…In bloom. Now, sssh. You make me forget all the good news. Just imagine, Wendla, last night the stork finally visited your sister. Brought her another little baby girl." Wendla's mother said with excitement. Wendla's face burst into an even brighter smile.

"I can't wait to see her, Mama." She said, showing her enthusiasm.

"Well, put on a proper dress, and take a hat." Her mother said, leaving the room.

"Mama," Frau Bergmann stopped and turned back to her child, "don't be cross-don't be." Wendla now had a serious expression on her face. It seemed like what she was about to say was something she had been wanting to say to me for a long time. "But I'm an aunt for the second time now, and I still have no idea how it happens." Her mother couldn't believe what she was being asked of-by her own daughter, none the less. She wasn't sure how to answer the child's innocent question, certainly not with the truth. "Mama, please. I'm ashamed to even ask. But then, who can I ask but you?" Her mother looked at her and still couldn't believe they were having this conversation.

"Wendla, child, you cannot imagine that I could-"

"But you cannot imagine I still believe in the stork." Wendla said, cutting off her mother for a second time.

"I honestly don't know what I've done to deserve this kind of talk. And on a day like today! Go, child, put your clothes on." Frau Bergmann said, dismissing her daughter.

"And if I run out, now, and ask Gregor? Our chimney sweep…?"Wendla persisted. Her mother looked at her daughter and thought that soon she would be out of school and just like her sister; she would be married and have a child of her own. But the mother also thought of the boys at the school, how one of them may know the cause of a child's birth and with Wendla having such a curiosity…

"Very well, I'll tell you everything. But not today. Tomorrow. Or the day after." She finally said, trying to give her daughter something to look forward to while she thought of what she would say when the time came.

"Today, Mama." Wendla said almost as a demand.

"Wendla Bergmann, I simply cannot…" Her mother said, trying to find the words.

"Mama!" Her daughter screamed, definitely an order now.

"You will drive me mad." Her mother replied.

"Why?" Her daughter asked, not understanding. Then an idea flashed before her eyes. "I'll kneel at your feet, lay my head in your lap…You can talk as if I weren't even there." Her mother did not respond. "Please." Wendla said with a deep longing in her voice. Frau Bergmann knew that Wendla would not give up until she was given an answer. So she took a breath, knowing that the time had finally come.

"Very well, I'll tell you." She whispered. It was music to Wendla's ears. Frau Bergmann sat in a chair and Wendla knelt down on her knees, putting her head in her mother's apron.

"Yes…" She said expectantly.

"Child, I…" Frau Bergmann said, starting to get up. But Wendla put her hands on her mother's leg, keeping her down.

"Mama." She said pleadingly.

"All right, then. In order for a woman to conceive a child…You follow me?" She asked, looking down at her daughter's head.

"Yes, Mama." Wendla replied happily. Frau Bergmann looked down at her daughter. She couldn't tell this to Wendla's face. So she covered her head with the apron.

"For a woman to bear a child she must…"

And this is the way that Wendla discovered where babies came from. She went to school that day with a new sight added to her once innocent eyes. She remembered the way her mother talked about the boys at school. How they would be willing to commit this act without being married. Wendla occasionally passed some boys on her way to and from the girl's school. All of the boys she looked at wouldn't even look back at her. All of them, that is, except for Melchior Gabor.

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And theres the whole thing in a nutshell, hope you all enjoy. Reviews are Wendla to my Melchior.


	2. Persuasion

I've finally finished! I know there's only a slight change, but a small spark can burn a forest, right?

Disclaimer: I own nothing...*sigh*

**Persuasion**

Melchior Gabor was sitting against the back of an oak lost in thought when a rather rushed looking Wendla Bergman walked by. "Melchior?" She asked in disbelief.

Melchior snapped out of his train of thought and looked at the person who had addressed him. "Wendla Bergman?!" He said in even more disbelief. What on earth was she doing in the middle of the forest? "Like a tree-nymph fallen from the braches. What are you doing-alone up here?" He asked, getting up.

"Mama's making May wine. I thought I'd surprise her with some woodruff. And you?" She said, showing him the proof in her hands.

"This is my favorite spot. My private place-for thinking." Melchior explained.

"Oh. I'm sorry." Wendla said, starting to walk away. Melchior reached out his hand to stop her.

"No-no. Please." Melchior said. She stopped and turned to look at him. "So…how have you been doing?" He said, not knowing what else to say.

"Well, this mourning was wonderful. Our youth group brought baskets of food and clothing to the day-laborers' children." Wendla said, happy to talk about helping others.

"I remember we used to do that. Together." Melchior said, remembering the days that they would walk from church together and then go to Ilse's house to play pirates with her and Moritz.

"You should have seen their faces, Melchior. How much we brightened their day." Wendla said, smiling at the memory.

"Actually, its something I've been thinking a lot about." Melchior said, remembering himself writing something about that in his last journal entry.

"The day-laborers?" Wendla questioned.

Melchior shook his head. "Our little 'acts of charity.' What do you think, Wendla, can our Sunday School deeds really make a difference?" Melchior asked, expecting a typical answer from the girl.

"They have to. Of course. What other hope do those people have?" Wendla said sounding shocked that Melchior would think otherwise.

"I don't know, exactly." Melchior said honestly. "But I fear that the Industry is fast determining itself firmly against them."

"Against us all, then." Wendla said. Melchior looked a her, shocked that she had followed what he was saying.

"Thank you, yes!" He said, smiling.

"It seems to me: what serves each of us best is what serves all of us best." Wendla continued.

"Indeed." Melchior was astounded that someone like Wendla Bergman could have said something so profound. "Wendla Bergman, I have known you all there years, and we've never truly talked."

"We have so few opportunities. Now that we are older. And ready to go on to adulthood without realizing the consequences of our actions." Wendla said. Melchior saw a hint of knowing in her eyes that he had not known was there before. He wanted to see if that knowing was what he thought it was.

"True." He said carefully, stepping closer to her. "In a more progressive world, of course, we could all attend the same school. Boys and girls together. Wouldn't that be remarkable?"

Wendla backed away. "What time is it?" Wendla asked.

Melchior was a little taken aback by the question but recovered in time to say, "Must be close to four."

"Oh!" Wendla said, surprised. "I thought it was later. I paused and lay so long in the moss by the stream, and just let myself dream…I thought it must be…later."

"Then, can't you sit for a moment? When you lean against this oak, and stare at the clouds, you start to think hypnotic things…" He said, no longer thinking about the Industry.

"I have to be back before five." Wendla said warningly.

"But, when you lie here, such a strange, wonderful peace settles over you…" Melchior tempted.

"Well, for a moment maybe." She said, settling down. Melchior sat beside her. He looked up at the clouds and closed his eyes, letting his mind get swept away with the breeze. Eventually, he got the strange feeling that he was being watched. He looked opened his eyes and noticed Wendla staring at him. He smiled at her. His hand slowly reached down and grabbed hers. She let out a gasp.

"The sun's setting, Melchior. Truly, I'd better go." She said getting up.

"We'll go together. I'll have you on the bridge in ten minutes." He said getting up and putting his hand on her shoulder.

"No. She said, shrugging him off. "I think it would be best if I went alone." She walked toward the sunset, which looked beautiful through trees. Melchior didn't seem to mind the denial. He walked back to the tree and let himself get swept away again. By the time he snapped out of it, he could clearly see stars in the sky. He pulled out his journal and asked his questions to Leo and Orion as he copied them down in his book.

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Got to love how Melchior just shrugges it off. Reviews are Ilse to my Moritz!


	3. Parenting

Hey! My third chapter! I want to day that I know there isn't anything diferent about this scene, but its a great Wendla builder, which is important to the beating scene. So, her it is, my third chapter:

**Parenting**

The wind was blowing fiercely as Wendla, Martha, Thea, and Anna walked arm in arm in the afternoon sun.

"Shall we take the short way home?" Anna asked her friends.

"No no-by the bridge." Thea said excitedly.

"After two hours marching with that medicine ball?!" Wendla said, shocked. Her arms still hurting from the weight of it.

"Come on!" Thea said, starting off, but stopping when she noticed no one was following her. She turned around and saw all of the girls smirking at her.

"Someone wants to see: has Melchi Gabor taken a raft out?" Anna said teasingly. Everyone knew Thea had a slight obsession with Melchior.

"Last one there has to hold hands with Hanschen!" She screamed, breaking into a run for the bridge. Everyone followed her this time.

"Martha, careful-your braid's coming loose." Anna said, stopping herself, Martha and Wendla. Thea noticed her friends had stopped following her once again. She went back to ask why but from one look at Martha's loosening braid there was no point; this subject came up quite often.

"Just let it." She said. "Isn't it a nuisance for you-day and night. You may not cut it short, you may not wear it down…"

"Tomorrow, I'm bringing scissors." Wendla muttered, sick of the subject.

"For God's sake, Wendla, no! Papa beats me enough as it is." Martha exclaimed.

"Really?" Wendla asked, shocked. She had never heard of children from this day and age being beaten by their parents. The only time she had ever felt anything from her parents or anyone really, was only a few weeks before, when her mother had told her how a woman receives a child. She only remembered the feeling vaguely now: it was a sense of awareness and knowledge; she loved it and would do anything to get any new feeling, even if it was painful.

"No, no, I-It's nothing." Martha said, looking away from her friends.

"Martha…?" Thea said, putting a hand on Martha's shoulder.

"Martha, we're your friends…" Anna said, joining Thea's side. Everything was silent then, even the wind blowing through the tree branches seemed to stand still to hear Martha's reply.

"Well, when I don't do as he likes…" Martha finally started to say.

"What?" Anna said anxiously.

"Some nights…Papa yanks out his belt." Martha managed to say.

"But where is your mama?" Thea asked, shocked at the news.

"'We have rules in his house. Your father will not be disobeyed.'" Martha said, putting on a rather good mock of her mother. She paused for a moment to look at her friends. They all were silent as the dead, so she continued to say, "The other night, I ran for the door. 'Out the door" All right, I like that. That's where you'll spend the night-out on the street.'"

"No!" Thea said in disbelief.

"My God." Anna said under her breath. No one knew what to say after that, but Wendla had to know more. She needed to have an inkling of how it must feel.

"He beats you with a belt?" She asked, attempting to be nonchalant.

"Anything." Martha replied, not looking up at Wendla.

"With a buckle?" Wendla asked, hungry for more.

"Right here…" Martha said, rolling up her sleeve to how her friends. They all gasped at the red welts on her arm. You could still clearly see the buckle indents in her skin.

"Oh my God!" Anna shouted.

"Martha, the welts-they're terrible." Wendla said, just trying to imagine it. She couldn't.

"We must tell someone." Anna said, starting away from the group, but Martha put her other hand on Anna's shoulder.

"Anna, no!" Martha said as she tried to pull her friend back.

"But we must."Anna said, fighting against Martha's arm.

"No, no, please. They'd throw me out for good." Martha said, still holding on the Anna's shoulder.

"Like what happened to Ilse, you mean." Thea said, remembering the missing member of their group.

"Remember!" Wendla said, taking Martha's side.

"But still…" Anna said, not fighting anymore.

"Anna, no. Just look what's become of Ilse now! Living who knows where-with who knows _who_?!"

"I just wish I could somehow go through it for you…" Wendla said, wanting to know the feeling of the welts on her arms, of the pain in her heart. It was quiet as Wendla tried to imagine a scenario with an outcome that would lead to her being beaten.

"My Uncle Klaus says, 'If you don't discipline a child, you don't love it.'" Thea said, braking Wendla's train of thought.

"That must be." Martha said to herself.

Another silent moment past before Anna turned to them and said, "When I have children, I'll let them be free. And they'll grow strong and tall." Anna puffed out her chest, proud of her conclusion of how to raise a child.

"Free? But how will we know what to do if our parents don't tell us?" Thea asked. Anna answered the question but Wendla didn't hear it. She only stared at Martha, who was looking at her feet, lost in thought as well. Wendla would do anything to know how Martha felt. Anything…

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Hey again! Just wanted to say that if you didn't like this chapter, you can flare me if you want to. I'm just not very comfortable with the subject matter, which is another reason why I told it from Wendla's POV. Please don't hate me. Reviews are Ernst to my Hanschen!


	4. Pain

Hi guys. This is the beating scene. Hope everyone likes it.

**Pain**

Melchior Gabor was leaning against an oak tree, writing in his journal, reading it aloud as he did so. "27 November. The trouble is: the terrible prerogative…the Parentocracy in Secondary Education…a world where teachers-like parents-view us as merely so much raw material for an obedient and productive society…a unified, military-like body, where all that is weak must be hammered away…Where the progress of the students reflects back only on the rank and order of the faculty, and therefore a single low mark can be seen as a threat to-"

"Melchior?" Wendla said, approaching him.

"You?!" Melchior said, jumping up to his feet as well as out of his skin.

Wendla shrugged and said, "I was lying by the stream, and then…I saw you here…"

Melchior didn't see where she was going. "Yes…" They both stared at each other then, not sure what to say.

"So…" Wendla spoke, breaking the silence finally.

"So…the stream. Dreaming again?…" Melchior said, trying to find a subject.

"I was, I guess." Wendla said calmly.

"And, what were you dreaming of?" Melchior asked, glad to have succeeded in his mission.

"It's silly." Wendla said quickly, turning away from him.

But Melchior wasn't giving up that easily. "Tell me."

"I dreamed I was a clumsy little girl, who spilt my father's coffee. And when he saw what I had done, he yanked out his belt and whipped me." Wendla said, still rather calm.

"Wendla, that kind of thing doesn't happen anymore. Only in stories." Melchior said reassuringly.

"Martha Bessell is beaten almost every morning-the next day, you can see the welts. It's terrible." Wendla said, turning to Melchior with tears in her eyes. "Really, it makes you boiling hot to hear her tell it. Lately, I can't think about anything else."

"Someone should file a complaint." Melchior said immediately. The police ought to be able to do something in this kind of situation, right?

"You know…I've never been beaten. Not once. I can't even imagine it. It must be just awful." Wendla said after a moment.

"I don't believe anyone is ever better for it." Melchior said.

She didn't seem to hear him though. "I've tried beating myself-to find out how it feels, really, _inside_." Wendla said as she picks up a switch. "With this switch, for example? It's tough. And thin." She offers him the switch. He takes it and swishes it through the air.

"It'd draw blood."

"You mean, if _you_ beat me with it…?" Wendla said almost encouragingly.

"Beat you?" Melchior asked in shock.

"Me." Wendla said reassuringly.

"Wendla, what are you thinking?!" Melchior said, not believing what he was hearing.

"Nothing." Wendla said simply.

"I could never beat you." Melchior said, trying to hand back the switch. Wendla wouldn't take it.

"But if I let you?" Wendla asked.

"Never." Melchior said, still trying to push the switch into her hand.

"But if I asked you to?" She questioned, pushing it back.

"Have you lost your mind?" Melchior asked, wondering if he was losing his as well. He though he fell asleep on the oak tree and that this was just a dream. He closed his eyes and pinched himself only to find that when his eyes opened again, they were in the same place.

"Martha Bessell, she told me-" Wendla started.

"Wendla! You can't envy someone being beaten." Melchior shouted at her, cutting her off.

"But I've never been beaten-my entire life. I've never…felt…" Wendla said, looking down.

"What?" Melchior asked, needing to know what possessed this girl.

"_Anything_." Wendla said, looking up with new tears in her eyes. "Please, Melchior…" She said as she bent over, giving Melchior a great view of her backside. Every part of him knew this was wrong, but he knew that if something like this really mattered this much to her, she wouldn't give up until she had found a way for it to happen to her. So with much regret, he struck her lightly with the switch.

"I don't feel it." Wendla said, looking back curiously.

"Maybe not, with your dress on." Melchior said, hoping that this awkward scene would end.

"On my legs, then." Wendla said, lifting up her dress to show her legs and the whilt undergarments covering her bottom.

"Wendla!" Melchior said half in shock of Wendla's persistence and half in shock of the picture in front of him. How many times had he dreamed of having this opportunity? Far to many.

"Come on. Please." Wendla said, glancing back at him. Melchior knew that the only thing he could do was to give her what she wanted.

"I'll teach you to say 'Please'…" He said as he hit her once again.

"You're barely stroking me." Wendla said. It sounded a little muffled but Melchior shrugged it off as he struck her again.

"How's that then?" Melchior said, becoming tantalized by the sight in front of him and how she just kept asking for more.

"Martha's father, he uses his belt. He draws blood Melchi." Wendla said, moving her backside a little closer to Melchior. He struck her again.

"How's that?"

"Nothing." He struck her again.

"And that?"

"_Nothing_." Wendla said again. Melchior couldn't take it anymore. His mind was telling him one thing and his body was telling him another. He became angry that he couldn't decide what he truly wanted and saw the object of his confusion.

"You bitch. I'll beat the hell out of you." Melchior said as he pushed her to the ground. It was only then that he saw her face, her eyes, her tears. He had no idea what to do. So he ran. He ran from her. He ran from the world. He ran from his very existence. It was only in the darkness of the woods that he stopped at felt the hot drops of liquid that where trickling down his face.

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Well, that was an interesting chapter to write. Hope it was the same to read. Next is the hayloft scene!


	5. Penetration

Well, here it is. *drum roll* The hayloft scene. Sorry it took so long for me to get this one out. Life can sneack upp on you in alot of different ways. But before we get on with the show, how about a little

Disclaimer: I do not in any way, shape, or, form own Spring Awakening *sigh* or any of its characters. *deeper sigh*

Now onto the the next chapter:

**Penetration**

Wendla Bergman walked slowly into the hayloft that Frau Gabor had mentioned to her at church today. She wanted to find Melchior, so that she could return his journal, or at least that's what she kept telling herself. She found Melchior Gabor pacing the room talking to himself. He seemed so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn't hear her come in."So, here you are." She said. Melchior immediately gasped in surprise and sank down to the floor.

"Go away. Please." He said into his hands.

"There's a storm coming, you know. You can't sit sulking around in some hayloft." She said, approaching him.

"Out." He said loudly. Wendla paused, but then continued to creep forward.

"Everyone's at Church. Rehearsing for our Michaelmas chorale. I slipped out." She said, trying to make conversation.

"Yes. Well." Melchior said simply. Wendla searched for another subject.

"Your friend Moritz Stiefel is absent. Someone said he's been missing all day." She said, hoping to get more of a response.

"I expect he's had his fill of Michaelmas." Melchior said, not budging.

"Perhaps." She said as she frantically searched for another topic. "You know I have your journal." She said, as she looked down and realized what her hands were holding.

"You do?!" Melchior said, looking back at her.

"You left it. The other day. I confess, I tried reading part of it-" She said, glad to get a response.

"Just leave it. Please." Melchior said, cutting her off. Wendla knew she had mentioned a sore topic. But it was her job to remedy it.

"Melchior, I'm sorry about…what happened. Truly, I am. I understand why you'd be angry at me. I don't know what I was thinking-"

"Don't." Melchior said, his voice soft but seemed to fill the entire room. But Wendla wouldn't let it go.

"But how can I not-"

"Please." Melchior said, cutting her off once again."Please. Don't." Melchior looked at her for a moment then turned back to his hands. "We were confused. We were both just…"

But Wendla knew she had to make Melchior feel better. She blamed herself for his depression. "But it was my fault that-"

"Don't-please-no! It was me-all me. Something in me started, when I hit you." Melchior said, his voice steadily rising. Wendla saw her chance.

"Something in me, too."

"But I hurt you-"

"Yes, but still-"

"No more! My God. No more. Just-please." Melchior was shouting now, which is why Wendla was surprised when he softly said, "You should go."

Wendla was not about to give up on her friend this easily on something that was completely her fault. She was close enough that she decided to kneel down beside her downtrodden friend. "Won't you come out in the meadow now, Melchior? It's dark in here, and stuffy. We can run through the rain-get soaked to the skin-and not even care."

"Forgive me…" Melchior said so softly that Wendla could barely hear it. Wendla then grabbed Melchior's head and pulled it close to her breast.

"It was me. All me."

"I can hear your heart beat, Wendla." Melchior said before raising his head and touching his lips to hers. Wendla pulled back immediately.

"Oh Mechi-No." She said, shaking her head.

"No matter where I am, I hear it, beating…" Melchior said, hesitantly.

"And I hear yours." Wendla admitted. She had been thinking about Melchior ever since their forst meeting at the oak tree. That was all Melchior appeared to need as he pressed his lips against Wendla's for a deep kiss. Wendla was only stopped from joining him in his passion by the sound of her mother's voice, describing what would happen and what would come of that.

"Melchior…" She said, pushing him off. He only came back into the kiss with his entire body pressed into it this time. Wendla felt a shiver go down her spine as she felt Melchior's body heat become one with hers. She could feel her newly formed dress against his broad strong chest. She could feel her dress against his…"No-wait-no-" She said, trying to push him off.

"Wendla…" He said, begging at his point. But Wendla managed to maintain herself.

"Wait-stop. I can't. We're not supposed to-"

"What?" Melchior said, interrupting her. "Not supposed to what? Love? I don't know-is there such a thing? I hear your heart…I feel you, breathing-everything-the rain, the hay…Please. Please, Wendla." He pressed himself so that there was no space between there bodies now and kissed her violently.

"Melchi, no-it just-its…" Wendla said, barely managing to stop herself from letting him take her to be his.

"What? Sinful?" Melchior asked, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her a little.

"Yes!" Wendla shouted at him. She somehow managed to push him off of her. She then got to her feet and left without another word.

* * *

Wendla had started running through the forest that was outside the Gabor's hayloft. Run, and never come back. She ran for what seemed to her to be a long time, before she stopped and rested on a beech tree to catch her breath. It was then that she heard a feint noise that sounded like screaming from a distance. She jogged toward the noise until it became more clear and a figure seemed to match its noises. And not one she expected either.

"Ilse! Ilse!" The figure shouted into the night.

"Moritz Stiefel?"

* * *

Now comes the part where you either all love it or throw shoes at me. Please enter either a comment or a shoe in the review board so I can know if you guys what me to keep going. Suggestions are greatly appreciated. Hope to get out the next chapter in a week. *crosses fingers*


	6. Partnership

Success! I knew I could rise up to the challenge. Of course, getting sick and staying home helps too, lol. Hope you guys like this one, I know I liked writing it.

Disclaimer: I do not own Spring Awakening, but I am obsessed with it.

**Partnership**

"Wendla Bergman?" Moritz Stiefel said as he whirled around to see her new feminine figure a few paces behind him. Moritz couldn't believe his eyes. He had just been talking with Ilse, a childhood friend, who had offered him to walk her home. He had refused. He regretted it instantly, but as soon as she disappeared, Wendla appeared before him. He saw it as a second chance.

"What are you doing out here in the middle of the night?" Wendla asked, approaching him.

"I could ask you the same question." Moritz said after a moment.

"Fair enough." Wendla said, looking down. "Were you out here during the Michaelmas Chorale?"

Moritz was silent a moment. "No, I was…Discussing things with my father. He didn't like what I had to say-"

"What did you have to say?" Wendla said, interrupting him. Moritz became silent again. "Sorry if I-"

"No, its fine, Wendla. Word will spread eventually in a town as small as this one…I passed my middle-terms." Moritz said, looking at his black shoes, now covered in dirt.

"Oh, Moritz. That's great." Wendla said, waiting for him to continue.

"It is." Moritz said with a slight smile. "But I failed my final term."

"Oh, Moritz." Wendla said, stepping beside him and putting a hand on his shoulder.

"I told my father, and he became mad, very mad…I remember becoming extremely sad and confused, and the next thing I know, I'm out here alone." Moritz said, trying to stay calm as he felt Wendla's hand on his shoulder. The only one who had ever shown him any sympathy before was Melchior. He nervously put his hand in his pocket and his fingers brushed against the butt of a gun. He remembered what he had really come out here to do. But first Ilse, and now Wendla, maybe there is a God and it is trying to send him some kind of sign. Moritz considered this as his hand slowly slid out of his pocket.

"Moritz, I don't see how you could stand that feeling. If I failed my terms, Mama would leave me out on the street." Suddenly, Wendla was holding him in a tight embrace. "Moritz, I promise to be here for you if you ever need to talk." Moritz was frozen. Never. Never. Had a girl hugged him before. It was the most wonderful feeling he had ever experienced. This is why it took him a minute to return the gesture.

"W-wendla?" Moritz said with a smile on his face.

"Yes." Wendla said, with how tightly she was hugging him, he was surprised at the depth in her voice.

"Th-thank you." Moritz said happily. Suddenly Wendla pulled away from him. Moritz felt cold as her warmth disappeared.

"Think nothing of it." Wendla said with her back turned to him. Moritz was puzzled by this. He set his hand on her shoulder.

"I will be here, if you what to talk to me also." Moritz said calmly.

"Thank you Moritz. Really. But I would rather go home." Wendla said. She then looked around and then looked down at her feet."If I knew which way to go."Moritz saw his opportunity.

"I-I could show you the way."Wendla thought about his a moment.

"No. Just tell me the way." Moritz was sure that her heard a shiver in her voice.

"Wendla…"

"Moritz, please. Just tell me that way." Wendla said, her voice steadily rising. He was sure he heard a shiver in it now.

"Wendla, I-"

"Moritz don't." Wendla said, turning around. He saw the tears slowly flowing down her cheeks. He caught her as she collapsed into his arms. He froze again, but only for a moment as Wendla's sobs revived him. "Moritz…I…I" Wendla tried to say through sobs. Moritz only held her, gently making shushing noises and the occasional, "It'll be alright." All while slowly running his hand through her dark hair. Moritz longed so much to pull her head up, to kiss her, to touch her, but she needed him right now and he wasn't going to brake this newly revived friendship over feelings that he didn't even know were natural. So he controlled himself as Wendla gained control of herself. She eventually got to the point that she was only hiccupping a little.

"Come on. Lets get you home." Moritz said, grabbing her hand and started off into the woods. He soon got held back by Wendla though. Even though she was still a little weak, she managed to stop Moritz from taking off. She just stood there looking at there connected hands.

"Did you ever notice how things don't seem as scary when they are in a different light?" Wendla said. Just as she did, the morning sun rose in the east, giving the woods the slightest bit of light. She looked at Moritz in the eyes.

"Y-yes," Moritz said, returning her stare, "But, of course, sometimes you should rejoice the change. Because it just takes a shift of light to show you what you were missing." With that said, Wendla walked beside Moritz, hand in hand.

* * *

Well, that was fun, wasn't it? Questions, comments, and shoes are all welcome at the review box. Suggestions are much appreciated. Reviews are Wendla to my...Moritz?


	7. Pleas

Hi again! Just wanted to say that I had to work through a serious case of writers block to get this to you guys. :) Hope you enjoy!

**Pleas**

Melchior Gabor sat in his family's hayloft, motionless. He had watched as Wendla had come in, approached him, admitted to him that she loved him, and then stormed out. He still reeling at the situation. So he just sat there. He continued to sit as he saw the rays of the morning sun shine through a small window and stretch across the hayloft floor. He head his mother calling from the door of the barn.

"Melchior, are you up there?" she called. Melchior didn't respond. "Melchior?" He then heard her step up the stairs that led to the loft. He saw her head appear slowly with her entire figure following it.

"Melchior, why did you not respond to my calls? And why are you still wearing the clothes you were the night before? Follow me. I have prepared breakfast." Melchior remained sitting. He looked down at the floor. He believed that if he couldn't have his Wendla, then he truly didn't deserve the life that he was living right now. His mother looked back at him and joined him in his motionless state for a minute before asking, "Melchior, is everything all right?"

Melchior looked up at her, unsure how to reply. He decided to lie. "Fine, Mama."

His mother continued to look at him, but then turned around and said, "Very well then, keep what you will from me for now, but please obey your mother."

"Yes, Mama." he said, getting up. He followed Frau Gabor down from the loft and out of the barn. As he walked, he pondered what he would do with his life now that his Wendla had refused him. He also remembered her last comment. She believed that what could have been spawned in the hayloft was sinful, an act against the God that everyone seemed to pray to. He wondered how something that helped the human race become more expansive could be a sin against their God. He instinctively reached into his pocket to grab his journal, then realized that he had left it in the hayloft. "Oh, one moment, Mama. I need to retrieve my journal." he said, turning around. They were about halfway between their house and their barn. Frau Gabor patiently waited for Melchior to retrieve his journal before continuing to her breakfast of fresh milk and eggs.

* * *

Melchior remained in an out-of-mind state. His friends would often worry about him when he would often give them a black expression when they would walk around throughout the town, enjoying the summer sun.

"Are you feeling well, Melchi?" Moritz asked one day on the way home from such a walk. Everyone else had already left to be with their families. It had dwindled down to Moritz and Melchior. "You don't seem to be yourself."

"I'm fine, Moritz," Melchior said, not wanting his best friend to worry. "Don't think a thing of it." Moritz stepped in front of his friend.

"Melchior, don't do this," Moritz said, placing his hands on Melchior's shoulders, "I've been your friend for years and we have always told each other everything. You helped me so much last year. I want help you, too. In any way that I can."

"Moritz…" Melchior said, looking into his friends eyes. He knew Moritz was right. But how could he tell Moritz about something like what happened in the hayloft. He decided to keep quiet. "Please let me through." Moritz continued to hold his friend in place for a moment, before resuming his usual posture. Melchior walked past him, heading for his home.

"I saw Wendla a few nights ago," Moritz said. Melchior stopped. Moritz turned to him. "She really has become beautiful, hasn't she?" Melchior wondered where Moritz was leading this conversation as he turned to his friend.

"Yes, I suppose," Melchior said carefully.

"I remember when you, she, and myself would spend the whole summer together. We were inseparable," Moritz said, his voice getting quieter as he recalled the days that had passed.

"Yes, but those days are over now, Moritz," Melchior said, remembering Wendla's reaction to his love for her. "Maybe we should just forget the lives we are living and move on. Maybe we should just forget what has passed and focus on our present while it is still here before us. No matter what is past, and what will come to be, we have to realize that there will be an end. So let us strive for the best that we can do with the time we have. Before it runs out." It was at this moment that Melchior realized he did want to move on. With or without Wendla.

"Melchi-"

"Moritz," Melchior said, interrupting him, "I appreciate your offer. I honestly do. But I'm not going to dwell on my past mistakes any longer. I suggest you do the same. Goodbye, old friend." With this, Melchior turned back and walked down the road to his house as he left his childhood friend in the dust.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Melchior was ready. He had packed a sensible amount of books, a good portion of rations, and a few changes of clothes. He was going to leave this small town and explore his horizons while they were still there. He was packing the last of his belongings in a briefcase when his mother stepped into the door.

"Melchior," Frau Gabor said, "Wendla is here to see you."

Melchior looked up surprised. "Really? Let me see her." Melchior stood up and followed his mother to the sitting room. Wendla stood from her chair when he entered. Everything about her seemed the same, except a look in her eyes that seemed to show sorrow.

"I'll leave you two alone." Frau Gabor said leaving the room, but keeping the door open behind her in case she wanted to check up on them.

"Melchi…What are you doing with that briefcase?" She said, looking at the object that Melchior planned to be living out of for the next few days.

"I'm leaving, Wendla," Melchior said steadily, admitting to himself more then her that he really was leaving.

Wendla didn't seem surprised. "Where will you be going?"

Melchior was silent a moment. "Anywhere but here. Wendla, I have to leave. There's nothing left for me here."

"Melchior, don't be ridiculous. There are plenty of things. Your education, Moritz, Hanschen…" Wendla said, approaching him.

"And?" Melchior said, closing the briefcase.

"Me."

Melchior turned to her. "Do you really mean that?" Wendla nodded.

"Show me that you do." Melchior said, turning to her to see what she would do. For a few seconds, all Wendla did was stand there, looking at Melchior. "Well?"

"Melchi…" She said, slowly approaching him. "Please stay." She then, very slowly brushed her lips to his. Only letting them linger for a few seconds. "Please."

* * *

Well, thats it for now. Reviews and suggestions are appreciated, shoes are accepted. I should have the next chapter up soon. It will be from Wendla's POV.


	8. Pleased

Merry Christmas everyone! Hope you enjoy this chapter because it could be the last one for a while. Here it is:

**Pleased**

Wendla Bergman looked into Melchior Gabor's eyes, hoping that he would say that he would stay. She knew that she was the only one who could make him stay, and she knew that she had to, for Moritz.

* * *

_"Wendla Bergman?" Wendla heard a startled voice say. She sat up from her favorite place by the creek and looked up to see Moritz._

_"Moritz," she said with a smile, "what are you doing here?" Wendla herself was taking advantage of the summer and letting her dreams wonder free until the new school year began.  
_

_"I-I…" Moritz stuttered. Wendla saw that Moritz looked shakier then usual and that his clothes looked dirty.  
_

_"Moritz, are you all right? Did something happen?" Wendla said, standing and rushing to her friend.  
_

_"M-my father…He-he…" Moritz stammered.  
_

_"Yes." Wendla said, looking up at her friend with nothing but concern.  
_

_"He threw m-me out!" Moritz said, collapsing.  
_

_"What?" Wendla asked, joining him on the ground.  
_

_"My f-father threw me o-out!" Moritz said, crying into his hands.  
_

_"Moritz, that's terrible…" Wendla said, holding him as best she could.  
_

_After a few minutes, Moritz lifted his head from his hands. "I n-need somewhere to s-stay."  
_

_"Moritz, I would love to help, but you would never be allowed to stay with-"  
_

_"No," Moritz said, cutting her off, "I was t-thinking of staying w-with Melchior."  
_

_"Oh, Moritz, that's great. Melchi would be glad to take you in." Wendla said, attempting to only responded by saying, "I think he may be leaving soon."  
_

_"What?" Wendla asked, shocked.  
_

_"I w-was talking with him the o-other day. He said t-that he wanted to forget these lives and m-move on. I haven't s-seen him since. Frau G-Gabor said he was home as church l-last night though." Moritz said, staring into the creek and remembering the conversations with Melchior and his mother. Wendla hated to see Moritz this way, he needed a place to stay, or else he could end up like Ilse…Or worse. Wendla stood up.  
_

_"Wendla, where are you going?" Moritz asked.  
_

_"I said I would help you, Moritz. Now I'm going to follow through." Wendla said, navigating her way through the underbrush._

* * *

"Did you really mean to do that?" Melchior asked. Wendla only nodded and stared up at her childhood friend.

"So, will you stay?" Wendla asked. Melchior thought about it for a minute before slowly starting to nod. Wendla smiled with delight and held Melchior in a tight embrace. Melchior returned the gesture immediately. Suddenly, she felt that she was up in the hayloft with him again, and he was leaning towards her again; but this time, she would let him through. She was ready for her lips to connect with his again, when she heard a noise that didn't belong.

"How are you two doing?" Frau Gabor said, peeking through the door. Melchior and Wendla immediately let each other go.

"Fine, Mother." Melchior said with a smile.

"Splendid, I'll have dinner ready to be served in a few minutes. Will you be staying with us Wendla?" Frau Gabor asked her visitor.

"Actually, I had better be on my way Frau Gabor. But thank you for having me." Wendla said, giving Melchior one last look and heading out the door.

"Well, feel free to come by anytime you like." Wendla heard Frau Gabor say as she shut the door behind her.

* * *

OK, now to explain. I haven't been getting much feedback, so I'm going to go on a hiatus of sorts, until I feel that people are actually taking an interest. Again, Merry Christmas.


	9. Pleasure

Here you guys go! A new chapter, and it's a Moritz one. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: (monotone) I do not own Spring Awakening.

* * *

**Pleasure**

Moritz Stiefel sat with his wall to the back of the church, his hands were wrapped around his legs and his head rested on his knees. He was staring out into the graveyard, thinking about what to do next. He knew that he couldn't return home, and Melchior was bound to leave soon. What was Moritz to do? He looked around at the gravestones that filled the cemetery behind the church. He wondered if anyone would bother to buy him a tome stone after his death. If anyone would even bother. Why would they? He was just a drop-out who had no real use in the world. Maybe he should have made use of the gun that he had in his pocket that night in the woods. Maybe things would have been better if he had just done what he had gone out there to do. Maybe…Moritz pulled his legs closer to him and began to weep. He then suddenly heard a brush against the branches on the ground. Someone was approaching. He looked up and was surprised to find a beautiful maiden in a white dress with long black hair appear out of the corner of the church. An anger if there ever was one.

"Moritz?" She asked, looking at Moritz's pathetic display.

"Y-yes," Moritz answered with a sniff.

"Moritz! I come bearing the most wonderful news." The angel came and sat down at Moritz's side. "I have convinced Melchior to stay here. Now you can stay with him, instead of running off. Isn't that fantastic, Moritz? You can stay here! You can really stay." The angel smiled down at Moritz who was trying to take all of this in. Maybe there really was a God, because this must have been His angel. Who else could perform a miracle like this? The angel wrapped herself around Moritz and Moritz found himself smiling down at the dark haired beauty.

"That's b-brilliant news," He said to her. It really was, he would finally have a place to go where he wouldn't feel unwelcome. He looked up and saw that the sun was setting. He had better start off to Melchior's house soon if he wanted a warm bed for the night. This is way he begrudgedly freed himself from the angel's embrace. "I-I thank you s-so much." He smiled at the angel who was practically beaming in response.

"My pleasure, friend," she said, giving Moritz a little kiss on the cheek. Moritz felt a surge of heat and strength go through him. He suddenly felt like he could face anything. This angel must have been from God to be able to give him this kind of strength. He rose from the ground and helped his angel up too. His new found strength coursing through his veins. "If you ever need anything, don't be afraid to ask me, Moritz." Moritz smiled in return to her offer and headed off to Melchior's home.

* * *

"Moritz?" Frau Gabor said, opening the door to fin him standing there. "Is that you?"

"Y-yes, Ma'am," Moritz said. "May I c-come in?"

"Why certainly," Frau Gabor said stepping out of the doorway and letting Moritz step through.

"Is Melchior home?" Moritz asked, looking around as if his friend were right inside the door.

"Yes," Frau Gabor said, closing the door, "But may I ask what you're doing here, Moritz? The last that I heard, you were trying to make enough money to go to America." Moritz suddenly remembered the letter of desperation that he had sent to Frau Gabor only days before he was thrown out of his home.

"Actually, Frau Gabor, I-I've come to ask you if I m-may stay here for a while?" Frau Gabor gave him a shocked expression. "You see, m-my father has thrown me out on the street and I'm looking f-for a place to stay until I c-can find a line of work and make my own living." Frau Gabor's expression immediately went to one of shock to one of sympathy.

"Melchior!" she called down the hall. Melchior appeared out of the doorway that led to his room and came to see what his mother needed. His expression changed to one of surprise when he say Moritz standing beside her.

"Moritz? What on earth are you doing here? And why are your clothes so dirty?" Melchior said, giving Moritz a full once over. Moritz had forgotten that he must have looked terrible, sitting down in the dirt for so long.

"Melchior, Moritz is going to be staying with us for a while. Please take him to the bathroom so that he may wash up. Oh, and find him something nice to wear while he's in there," Frau Gabor said, pushing Moritz toward Melchior. Melchior gave Moritz a look that was full of questions, but none that he would ask in front of his mother.

"Follow me," Melchior said, starting off down the hall with Moritz right behind him. As soon as they stepped into the bathroom, Melchior closed and locked the door. "Moritz, what are you doing here?"

"I'm sorry, Melchi, but my p-parents threw me out on the street and I couldn't think of anywhere else t-to go." Melchior's expression changed just as quickly as his mother's had.

"Oh," Melchior said, looking down at the ground, "I'm sorry to hear that." His eyes feel on the cabinet under the sink. He then proceeded to open it and pull out the towel that was inside. "Here." He gave Moritz the towel. "You wash up. I'll return later with some clothes for you." Melchior still couldn't seem to look at Moritz as he unlocked the door and opened it.

"Melchi?" Moritz said.

"Yes?" Melchior asked, stopping in the middle of the doorway.

"Thank you," Moritz said, offering a smile.

"My pleasure, friend," Melchior said, looking Moritz in the eye and returning the smile before closing the door.

* * *

Hope you guys enjoyed this! review!


	10. Power

Hey guys! New chapter is up! Enjoy! And please review!

Disclaimer: I do not own Spring Awakening, I just really, really, really want to.

* * *

**Power**

It had been a week since Moritz had moved into Melchior Gabor's home. The days had gone by quicker then Melchior had expected them to. Even if Moritz was using everything that Melchior had, including his clothes. Melchior didn't mind. He saw Moritz as a kind of younger brother, one that he had always wanted, and after all, families would do anything to help each other. A moral that Moritz's parents had obviously never learned. So every other day, he would help Moritz go out and find work, and every other day, Moritz would be denied for his apprenticeship. It seemed that there wasn't a trade that he was good at. But everyone knows that he tried his hardest to look like he was good, only to become a display of failure and usually laughter to the one who had offered the job. Melchior was starting to think that there was no hope for Moritz until Moritz suddenly burst through the door.

"Melchi! I got a job!" Moritz yelped. Running up to his best friend and embracing him, which was quite a feat since Melchior was sitting down.

"What do you mean, Moritz?" Melchior asked as he smiled and returned his friend's embrace.

"A job, Melchi! An a-actual job!" Moritz said, releasing his friend. He seemed to be filled with such power, such a sense of accomplishment. It made Melchior happy to finally see his friend this way. He couldn't remember the last time Moritz had actually felt proud of himself.

"What is the job?" Melchior asked.

"You wouldn't believe me if I t-told you," Moritz said as he put on a very smug look. Melchior was suddenly filled with curiosity.

"Try me."

"I'm a carpenter's apprentice," Moritz said with a huge smile. Melchior gave Moritz a quizzical look which only increased Moritz smile from happy to beaming.

"But I though the carpenter had already said that he could never take you in as his apprentice," Melchior said, remembering the day they had tried to get the carpenter interested in Moritz. The meeting had ended just as the others had: badly.

"He did, b-but that was before today. You see, I was walking down the main street, looking for any kind of work, when someone s-suddenly ran into me," Moritz said, demonstrating the hit with his fist punching his palm. "I was confused about what was happening for the next few minutes, but from w-what I could gather, the man who had run into me had been stealing from the c-carpenter for weeks. The carpenter was never able to got him until t-today. He said that he would do anything to help me and that's when I m-mentioned the other day, when I had asked about the apprenticeship. He said it was the least he c-could do for me! I've never felt happier in my life, Melchi!" Melchior believed Moritz. It was extremely easy to with the seemingly unbreakable smile that seemed to affect Moritz entire body. For some reason, Moritz seemed to be standing taller, less hurt seemed to be in his eyes; he seemed to be more outward then inward. Melchior considered all of this to be a good sign.

"That's splendid, Moritz!" Melchior replied. "I'm so happy for you."

"I know you w-would be, Melchi. You've always been there to help me. Now I-I've got to go find Wendla," Moritz said, heading for the door.

"Wendla?" Melchior asked, putting on another puzzled expression.

"Yes, she will be excited t-to hear about my news," Moritz managed to say before practically shooting out the door. Melchior's puzzled expression didn't leave him. _Wendla…and Moritz?_ Melchior seemed to not be able to relate the two. It had been so long since the last time they had all played pirates in their childhoods that Melchior couldn't see them together anymore. He still considered Wendla to be his, and Moritz was practically family. The news that Moritz and Wendla had become good friends left Melchior with a very uneasy impression. An impression that he hoped to change. For Moritz.

* * *

There it is in black and white. Hope you guys enjoyed it! If you did, review! And if you didn't...review!


	11. Preparations

Hey everyone! Miss me? Here's a new chapter for all of you. Hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: *groans and glares at the pesky news reporters* For the last time, Spring Awakening is not mine!

**Preparations**

Wendla Bergman strolled happily down the main street of her hometown. She had reason to be skipping, she had to make the most of it. Fall semesters would be starting soon and she would not be able to do such childish things at her age. But she loved to do them anyway. Also, there was the news that Moritz had recently earned an apprenticeship under the local carpenter. Wendla had been over to visit him once. It wasn't a pleasant visit, the carpenter had quite a temper and would get upset with Moritz over every little mistake. There was also the fact that he hadn't seemed to have a liking for Wendla. In fact, she believed he found her annoying and would constantly avoid looking at her.

"Wendla? Is that you?" a woman's voice asked behind her. Wendla turned to find Frau Gabor.

"Yes, Frau Gabor. It's I," Wendla looked down at Frau Gabor's large bundle of groceries. "May I help you with those?"

"Thank you, Dear," Frau Gabor said, approaching her. She was met halfway by Wendla, who was handed a sack full of bread. Frau Gabor sighed in relief. "I didn't know how I was going to make it home."

"How is Melchior?" Wendla asked.

"Oh, that boy. He's already thinking of another way to change the world. This time it involves some kind of flying contraption," Frau Gabor said with a shrug. "I don't understand half of it, but he seems to know what he's talking about."

"I would have to disagree with you," Wendla said, switching the load of bread from one arm to the other.

"How do you mean?" Frau Gabor asked.

"Melchi has a wild imagination. So if there's anything that he knows how to talk about, it would be something that he doesn't completely comprehend," Wendla answered, giving Frau Gabor a smile. Frau Gabor returned the gesture.

"How did you get to know so much about my son?"

"We've been friends since we were children. I remember whenever we would play in Fairyland, Melchior would always be leading the way. He would have to explain everything that we were seeing, half of it must have been from the top of his head," Wendla said, looking day-dreamily at the road ahead of her. She could see Melchior holding his sword that could vanquish any foe, Moritz with his staff that could cast any spell, and herself with her wand that could give everyone the courage they needed to face their enemies. Then their parents would call them and they would have to put down their sticks and promise to meet each other the next day to start a new adventure.

"Wendla?" Wendla broke from her trance to find Frau Gabor standing at the door to the Gabor home. "Would you like to come in?" Wendla immediately nodded and entered the doorway.

She followed Frau Gabor to the kitchen and set down her sack of bread at the main table. Frau Gabor immediately retrieved the bread, brought it to the cutting table, and began to work on dinner. "Would you like to stay for supper?" Frau Gabor asked.

"Oh, no, I wouldn't want to intrude-"

"It's no trouble. I've bought too large of a portion of meat, and I would hate to see it spoil," Frau Gabor said as she brought out a rather big portion of meat from another sack. She smiled as she heard Wendla's stomach growl. Wendla found herself blushing.

"All right," Wendla said, covering her red face.

"Splendid. It will be ready in just a minute. Melchior!" Frau Gabor shouted down to one side of the house. Melchior appeared out of one of the rooms and entered the kitchen to find his childhood friend.

"Wendla! How are you?" he asked, immediately breaking out into a smile.

"I'm well. It appears as if I'm staying for supper. I hope you don't mind," Wendla said.

"No, not at all," Melchior said, looking around. "We can go to a different room if you would like to sit down."

"That would be fine," Wendla said. Melchior turned around and motioned for her. Wendla followed him into the sitting room. Melchior walked behind a chair and motioned for Wendla to accept the seat. She did and a few seconds later, Melchior had sat in the seat next to hers.

"So how is Moritz?" Wendla asked after a few seconds of silence had ticked by. A door opening and closing answered her.

"It seems you'll be able to ask him yourself," Melchior said, rising from his seat.

* * *

Questions? Comments? Complaints? Got something on your mind? Need a peanut butter sandwich? Review!


	12. Patience

Happy Easter everyone! I've got a new chapter for you! I just have to say that I really liked this one. Hope you do too!

Disclaimer: I don't own Spring Awakening, but if anyone has a Genie with a few wishes that they wouldn't mind giving away...

**Patience**

"This is delicious, Frau Gabor," Wendla said to Melchior's mother.

"I agree, Mother. Even better then usual," Melchior said, taking another bite of the freshly cooked meat and potatoes. Frau Gabor smiled. She was glad to see her son happy, not just because of the meal. She glanced over at Wendla. Frau Gabor knew it had been a good idea to get a little extra meat when she saw Wendla skipping down the road.

"Did you do anything different, Dear?" Herr Gabor asked.

"I may have added a little too much garlic," Frau Gabor said, thinking over all the ingredients she had used.

Herr Gabor smiled. "Maybe you should do that more often," he said, taking another bite.

"What do you think, Moritz?" Wendla asked, looking over at Moritz who only seemed to be picking at the meal.

He looked up at the circle of expecting faces and snapped out of his trace. "Oh, uh, I'm sure t-t-that it's very good, Frau Gabor."

"Moritz, is something wrong?" Frau Gabor asked.

Moritz set down his fork. "Yes. The carpenter."

"What about the carpenter?" Melchior asked.

"He-He-He won't stop going on and on about how h-horrible I am at everything!" Moritz said throwing his arms in the air. "Melchior, remember when he said that he would stop saying things when I started doing them right?" Melchior shook his head, his mouth full of potatoes. "Well, I t-think that I've gotten a lot better then I had when I first started out. I haven't broken anything in a week. I know how almost all of the machines work. I've learned basically everything that I need to about the t-trade. But he won't stop saying how terrible I am at everything I attempt. An-and when I do have something done right, he only scoffs and says, 'About time, Klutz.'"

"That's terrible!" Wendla said.

"I don't think so," Herr Gabor said. Everyone else lifted their heads form their plates. "He's only getting harder on you because you've been his apprentice for a while now. If I had an apprentice that was more…accident prone, I wouldn't encourage him when he started getting better, that would only make him slack more. Do you know what I'm saying, Moritz? The carpenter's only doing it for your own good."

It seemed obvious that Moritz didn't understand, but he still returned his head to its downward position and said, "Yes, Herr Gabor." Frau Gabor looked at everyone at the table; Moritz, completely unwilling to speak up; her husband, proud to have given such good advice; Wendla, obviously concerned about Moritz; and her son, still vigorously eating his meal so as to keep his mouth full of food when it wanted to say something back to his father. It was times like this when she'd like to speak up, but she knew her husband would never allow it. She knew that her son must have felt the same, and she hoped that this thought would keep his mouth closed also.

"How is it for his own good?" Frau Gabor hoped that wasn't the voice she thought it was. She looked over to see her now standing son.

"Son-" Herr Gabor started.

"No, I want you to apologize to Moritz for saying something so…degrading," Melchior said. Frau Gabor could see the passion burning in his eyes. This wasn't going to go away.

"Melchior, he's an apprentice. He's in a degrading position."

"So you think that it's fine to make someone feel worthless when he already have proof that he is?" Melchior set his hands on the table, completely tense. Frau Gabor could see an anger rising in her husband. She had to stop this.

"Melchior, calm down. You've both made your points, but its time for you two to settle down and eat this meal like the Lord intended us to," Frau Gabor said as calm as possible while still showing that this was to be taken as a command. Melchior sat but did not eat. "Moritz, pass the salt please." Moritz, who had been staring at his plate the entire time, looked up and grabbed the salt shaker beside him and passed it to Frau Gabor. "Thank you, Dear."

"Maybe I should be going." Wendla said, beginning to get out of her seat.

"Nonsense, Child. You've only just touched your meal. I invited you for dinner, and I meant the entire dinner-"

"No, my mother will be wondering where I am if I'm not in before the sun sets," Wendla said, pushing in her seat. "Thank you, Herr and Frau Gabor. I really did enjoy the visit." She curtsied and glanced over at a miserable Moritz and a restrained Melchior before making her way out of the room.

"Let me help you to the door," Melchior said, rising and following Wendla.

As soon as they exited the room, Herr Gabor scoffed, "Why did you invite her, Fanny? You'll only be encouraging the thoughts of the boys."

"And what thoughts would those be?" Frau Gabor asked innocently, glancing at a still miserable Moritz who tilted his head slightly upward.

"You know what thoughts I mean. The thoughts that cause more trouble for us and make our name the laughing stalk of this village we're forced to be living in," Herr Gabor said.

"Well, I don't know about 'forced.' I actually enjoy living here. No one said that we had to live here. As I recall, that was your idea," Frau Gabor said. She could see the red appearing in her husbands cheeks; he was always so easy to tease. She couldn't help hiding a smile. "Are you done with your plate, Dear?" She glanced down at his empty plate.

"Yes, thank you," he said, pulling up his handkerchief and wiping his face.

"You too, Moritz?" Moritz looked at his full plate and nodded. Frau Gabor sighed and began thinking of the ingredients she would need for her meat and potatoes stew.

"Frau Gabor, m-may I be excused?" Moritz asked.

"Of course, Dear. Wendla probably hasn't left yet." She glanced up to see a glimpse of Moritz blushing as he left the table.

It wasn't long before Herr Gabor got up as well and went to join his wife with the dishes. "Honestly, Fanny, I have no idea how you can stand this son of yours," he said, drying the dish passed to him. Frau Gabor smiled; they had always had different views on how to raise Melchior.

"It's a little something called patience. I remember you having plenty of it when you would constantly ask for my father's blessing. He turned you down every time until his dying day, remember? He always thought that we weren't old enough," she grinned as she saw a shade of pink fill her husbands cheeks.

* * *

And that's the way the cookie crumbles. :) Hope all of you enjoyed it. If you did or didn't, **_PLEASE_** express your opinions in a review box. 'Till next time!


	13. Pulse

Hello peoples! This is my new chapter. Everyone do a happy dance! OK, just want to say that I really like this chapter...alot. So, be as brutal as possible please. :)

Disclaimer:I wonder if anyone pays attention to these...I'm going to put up random quotes from now on to see if anyone notices. And yall can try your best to guess where it's from! :D Anyway, I don't own Spring Awakening.

**Pulse**

Moritz Stiefel ran to the front door of the Gabor home, hoping that he hadn't missed Wendla's farewell. Though, of course, he had as was evident by her disappearance and the smile that was on Melchior's face.

"Has she left?" Moritz asked, hoping against all hopes.

"Yes, she has," Melchior said, the smile never leaving his face. Moritz looked off in the distance, trying to see a shadow, a flicker, anything.

There was nothing.

"Honestly, Melchi, I d-don't know what else to do," Moritz said, looking at his shoes.

"I'm sure we'll see her again soon, Moritz," Melchior said reassuringly.

"I'm talking about the c-carpenter," Moritz said, not looking up. "It feels like I'm b-being consumed by a sea of despair and I have n-no paddle to help me escape the oncoming tide." Melchior walked over to Moritz and placed his hands on Moritz's shoulders.

"Well, you know my opinion," Melchior said with a smirk. "But what I would suggest to do now is take advantage of the free time you have. What do you do while I'm at school and you don't have work?"

"Read. I've made it t-through a couple of those books that you suggested t-to me, Melchi. I have to say that they're not helping with my…problem." Melchior laughed.

"Even when I'm not with you, you're trying to please me. Take some time to yourself. Enjoy a walk through the woods, or a dip in the lake. Enjoy the summer heat while you can. It never does stay long," Melchior said. "And as for your 'problem,' there's a simple solution to that."

Moritz looked at him with a furrowed brow. "One you haven't shared with me before?"

"Yes, one that will stop the dreams."

Moritz gave Melchior a look of surprise. "Quick, share it with me." Melchior leaned in and whispered in Moritz ear as Moritz hung onto every word.

* * *

"Klutz! How can you be so stupid? I have told you already that you are not to touch anything while I am away," the carpenter screamed at the trembling boy. "Idiot!"

"B-b-but you were concerned with your errands and w-weren't sure if you were going to be a-able to finish planing this rocking chair." Moritz gestured to the now broken chair lying in a heap on the ground. "I thought that I c-c-could help you by…by…"

"Being a complete oaf, as you always are?" the carpenter asked, glaring at Moritz.

"No, by planing the c-chair for you. I'm sorry," Moritz said, knowing that his apologies would be no use. He could already see the anger continue to rise in the carpenter.

Then, he suddenly returned to his normal, anger-withheld pose and said in a rough voice, "May I help you ma'am?"

Moritz was confused for a moment, but then he heard a voice from behind him reply, "Yes, about how much would it be for you to polish this?" the voice asked. Moritz turned to see a woman holding up a wooden staff.

The carpenter looked down at Moritz and said in a gruff voice, "I'll deal with you later, but for now, get out of my shop." Moritz didn't hesitate; he hastily made his way to the back exit as he heard the carpenter making pleasant conversation with the woman holding the staff.

Moritz shut the door behind him and immediately took in a breath of fresh air. He had spent so many hours in the carpenter's shop, he couldn't believe that there really was a sun. Though today there wasn't, which is what Moritz realized as he looked up at the pale, cloud-covered sky. But it was still better then staying inside with the carpenter. Moritz walked down the street, heading for the Gabor home when Melchior's words suddenly came to mind.

_What do you do while I'm at school and you don't have work?_ Moritz froze as he remembered Melchior's advise. He looked around at the nearly vacant street and decided that he could stand to have a few hours to himself. With this thought in mind, he began heading for the lake. It was only a little way off the road and even in the summer it was only used for basic necessities. Moritz looked down at his own reflection in the water, imagining how the water would feel on his skin. He slipped his shoe and sock off before dipping his toe in the water. Warm. Moritz stripped down to his undergarments and began wading into the water. It did feel good. Moritz sat down in the murky lake, the water coming up to just past his abdomen. Moritz leaned back and discovered a log behind him. Moritz used this to his advantage as he sank into the waters until only his head was visible. It was here, with the calming effect of the water, the slight darkness of the sky, the absence of all others, that Moritz finally felt at peace. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, taking in what this felt like and committing it to his memory so he could look back on it in future times.

Melchior's voice returned to him again. _One that will stop the dreams._ Moritz opened his eyes and took Melchior's advice into consideration. If there was a time to try it, it would be now. _First, make sure you're alone._ Moritz quickly glanced around, assuring himself that he was alone in the water. _Then, think of the most beautiful image you've ever seen. Whether it be from one of your dreams or an actual person._ Moritz thought for a minute before deciding to go with someone who had appeared in both, Wendla, his angel. _What's left is simple, remember what you have learned from the books and your body will handle the rest._ Moritz closed his eyes and pictured Wendla in her long white dress, her long, black hair beautiful in the sun, her tanned skin sweating from the summer heat.

Suddenly, Moritz felt a movement in the waters. Not from any kind of animal, but from himself. He felt a little bit of movement right beneath his undergarments. He remembered a few times when this had happened before, but he had simply ignored it until the feeling passed. But now, immersed in the murky water and with no one in sight, he was willing to encourage this. He concentrated on Wendla in his mind's eye as his arousal became more and more prominent. Moritz opened his eyes, not sure what to do next. _Remember what you have learned from the books._ Moritz hand suddenly started acting on it's own as he pictured Wendla slowly slipping out of her dress, revealing one of her breasts. Moritz's hands rushed down to his manhood as he continued viewing the image. _Your body will handle the rest._ Moritz slipped his undergarments off, feeling a great release of pressure, while staying concentrated on Wendla, who was now slipping off the other side of her dress to reveal both of her breasts. Moritz pictured himself kissing her, touching her, tasting her. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest as his angel's perfect image became more and more sensual. Moritz's left hand automatically began stroking his arousal. Moritz let out a gasp at the feeling, not believing the sensation that was taking place in his body. He was trembling as he began stroking himself faster and faster. Wendla was looming before him, slowly revealing more of herself to the boy. Moritz stayed completely fixated on her, not wanting to move. She was about to push the dress off of her slender hips and let it fall to the ground when Moritz felt a wave of tension pour over his body that was immediately followed by a backwash of relief.

Moritz opened his eyes, his image of Wendla now as dark and shadowed as the water that surrounded him. He could still feel his heart rapidly beating in his chest. He had never felt more relaxed. He needed to remember to go home and thank Melchior for helping him find a way to relieve himself and hopefully end those dreadful nightmares. He closed his eyes and thought of Wendla again. _I'll always believe in you, Moritz._ Moritz turned around, thinking he heard something. _If you ever need a friend, I'm always here._ Moritz recognized it as Wendla's voice. He thought back to the time she had convinced Melchior to stay just because Moritz had asked. She really was a good friend…Then what was he doing imagining her in a disposition that made her look like a fool? Even though he knew that Wendla would never lose enough decency to actually go around in the nude, she didn't need any help from him to give her such thoughts. This revelation caused him to think that what he had done a few seconds ago must have been wrong. But it had felt so good, so...right. How could he deny it if the urge strikes him again? Moritz let himself sink further into the water, letting it consume him as he downed in questions of his own.

* * *

OK, remember yall, brutal, like free-falling from the top of a 3000-foot cliff brutal. HIT ME HARD!!!


	14. Plane

Hey everyone! Here's another update. It's a Melchior chapter, and let me tell you this right now. It's weird. No, seriously, it's really weird. You have officially been warned. Now for another warning.

Disclaimer: Let's start out with an easy one: "No more lips, no more tongue, no more ears, no more eyes." Btw, I don't own SA.

**Plane**

Melchior Gabor sat at the base of an oak tree in the middle of the woods. There was a slight chill in the air, a harbinger of what would soon be coming. But it went by nearly unnoticed by the boy. He was leaning against the tree, his eyes closed, on the brink of slumber. His mind slowly wandered with the wind's breeze... He heard a rustling in the bushes. His eyes shot open. He saw Wendla appear out of the midst of the noise, her hair disheveled and her dress torn.

"Melchi! Thank goodness, you're here." Wendla said, hurrying to her friend. Melchior immediately stood.

"Wendla! What happened to you?" Melchior asked.

Puzzled, Wendla looked down at herself. "Oh, this is nothing. I'm not the one you need to help."

"What on earth are you talking about? You look like you were attacked by a forest creature," Melchior said, his brow slowly furrowing.

"Come with me," Wendla said, running back into the bushes. Melchior caught up with his friend, not quite sure what to do but obey.

"Where are we going?" Melchior asked.

"The lake. Your help is needed there," Wendla said simply.

"What do you mean? What's happened?" Melchior asked as they walked through the woods.

"An event," Wendla replied. Melchior looked over at Wendla and noticed that her expression hadn't changed since she had first appeared. It looked blank, fixed on a task.

"Wendla, are you certain that you're all right?"

"Of course, I am, Melchi," Wendla said, not braking pace.

"Then how did you get in the state you are now?" Melchior asked, looking once again at Wendla's dress that now seemed to only be hanging on by a tattered ribbons on the shoulders. Wendla seemed to have gotten more beaten as well with scratches and bruises appearing on her arms and legs.

"What are you talking about, Melchi? As I said, I'm not the one who needs your help," Wendla said as she stepped between the last few trees. "He is."

Melchior looked at the body of water; nothing appeared to be different about it. He approached it at a normal pace, wondering what Wendla could be going on about. He gazed into the water and saw his own reflection staring back; it shared the same bewildered look, as well as a large slash that ran from the corner of his right eye down to the left side of his lower lip. Melchior felt his face, thinking it must have been some kind of trick. His hand touched his face and felt something sticky. His heart sank. He began breathing at a rapid pace, not sure of what to do.

"Have you found him?" Melchior heard Wendla call.

"Who are you going on about? You and I are the only people here," Melchior said, turning to Wendla, shocked at what he saw. Her dress was now completely gone. Her body was covered in long bloody scratches and the areas that weren't scratched were purple from bruising. Her eyes stared blankly at Melchior.

"He's not at the surface," she said in a voice that was now monotone. "He sank to the bottom, consumed by what he could not see."

"Whom are you speaking of?" Melchior said, looking around. He looked into the waters but only found his reflection. He now had another slash identical to his other one on the opposite side of his face. The slashes crossing at the bridge of his nose.

"It was Moritz, Moritz Stiefel," Wendla said, as she crouched over.

"Wendla, is something wrong?" Melchior said, running to her.

"Nothing, it's nothing," Wendla said, collapsing on the ground. Melchior sank to his knees and gazed into her emotionless face.

"Wendla, what is happening?" Wendla didn't answer; she only looked up at the sky. Suddenly, her stomach started to expand. Melchior looked at it in amazement as it continued to grow bigger and bigger.

"Melchior..." Wendla whispered.

"Yes," Melchior said as he bent his ear to her lips.

"Take care of him."

"Take care of whom?" She didn't respond. "Who, Wendla?" Melchior asked, gripping her raw shoulders.

Just as it seemed Wendla's stomach couldn't stretch any further, it burst; the splattering of blood caused Melchior to close his eyes. He tried to open them again but found that his eyes were too heavy to lift. He looked into the darkness, trying desperately to find some means of escape. Suddenly, he heard a voice. "M...Melchi."

"Yes?" Melchior said, hearing the voice as it echoed around the room.

"Melchior!"

"Wendla?" Melchior said groggily as he opened his eyes to find Moritz standing above him.

"Melchi! I-I've been looking everywhere for you," Moritz said.

Melchior readjust himself against the tree that was pressing uncomfortably into his back. How long had he been asleep? "Yes, well, I'm here. What do you need?"

"Have you slept with a woman?" Moritz asked.

Melchior laughed. "No, Moritz, but if you know someone who is willing to give to that worthy cause, please point me in the right direction."

"But how c-can you be sure of yourself? How c-can you know that is what you are supposed to do with women?" Moritz asked, looking at Melchior with concerned eyes.

"That's how you reproduce, Moritz. If we didn't have sex, the human race wouldn't be able to exist. That, and it feels splendid," Melchior said, smiling. Moritz looked down at his feet, processing this information. Melchior was surprised to realize that he hadn't mentioned this to Moritz before.

"Well, if you're c-certain that it's not unnatural or anything..." Moritz said, his eyes not leaving his shoes.

"I'm certain of it, Moritz," Melchior said, suppressing a laugh. "Come on, let's go home." Melchior stood and began walking, hearing Moritz's footsteps trailing behind him. On a whim, he stopped and waited for his friend to catch up, and they walked on side by side. He would later try to remember what he had dreamt while under the tree and remember nothing.

-BREAK-

There it is. Remember you were warned! And please be sure to comment on the weirdness. 'Till next time!


	15. Push

I have followers! I'm happy. ^^ I am planning on continuing the series until it reaches an actual ending, and hopefully, everyone would be OK with the ending. I personally like the idea that I have right now. But I have a weird sense of thinking what is good and what isn't. I love all of the reviews that I have gotten recently, and I have tried to fit in some of your suggestions and requests. Please continue to review as you see fit. Now on with the story...

...Right after the disclaimer: "I was a fool in school for cutting gym." I don't own SA.

**Push**

Wendla Bergman walked through the front door of her home, fresh from a visit at Moritz's work. The whole visit had seemed off to her, because it seemed like everyone was staring at her the entire visit. They weren't stares that were filled with hate or fear, but with lust. At least, that was what Wendla had interpreted it as. The carpenter in particular would look at her intently for ten minutes at a time; his eyes filled with hunger. But Moritz's eyes were filled with a different kind of lust. It was discreet, scarce, but extremely concentrated. Wendla knew that she had to ward off these kinds of looks, but she liked the feeling that appeared within her whenever she felt Moritz's eyes travel her body. It was as if he were appreciating her for her beauty, not her body. She imagined what it would feel like to have Moritz explore where he wished, but his image was immediately replaced by Melchior. She remembered how it had felt in the hayloft. So right, so natural...

"Wendla!" Frau Bergman shouted as she saw her daughter enter the house. Wendla jumped.

"Yes, Mama?" Frau Bergman's eyes were filled with suspicion. Wendla felt like a cow that had waltzed into a slaughter house.

"Where have you been?" Frau Bergman asked as she approached her daughter, her eyes narrowing.

"I was only off to visit Moritz at his work." Wendla hesitated before gathering her courage. "Is something the matter, Mama?"

"I ran into Frau Gabor at the market today," Frau Bergman said as if that explained it all. Wendla was about to ask what of it but was stopped by her mother. "She said that you had been over to her house for dinner the other day."

"Yes, this is true," Wendla said, not sure where this conversation was headed towards.

"Isn't that Moritz boy staying with the Gabors?" Frau Bergman asked.

Wendla blinked. "Yes, Mama."

"Wendla, do you not listen to anything that I tell you?" Frau Bergman asked, her tone quick and fierce. "I warned you about boys like Moritz and Melchior. They'll only lead to bad news for both of us. Now I want you to stay away from those boys. Is that understood?"

"But, Mama, I-"

"Is that understood, Wendla?" Wendla looked into her mother's eyes and could find no room for argument.

"Yes, Mama." Frau Bergman's posture immediately changed to a more relaxed pose.

"Good. Now go to your room and freshen up. It's almost time for dinner," Frau Bergman said, turning on her daughter and heading to the kitchen.

"Yes, Mama," Wendla answered as she exited to foyer and went into her room. She sat down on her bed, thinking over what her mother had said. She felt that everything had been going well with Moritz, but she needed to stay close to him. Otherwise, he would begin slipping into another depression. Her absence would also cause Melchior to leave. If he knew that he would have to wait for her to be of age before he could see her again, would he be willing to wait that long? She felt tears trickling down her face as she thought more and more, not realizing how crucial she was in holding everything together. She would be causing her friends so much pain just by staying away from them.

"Wendla, dear! Dinner's prepared!" Frau Bergman yelled from the dining room.

"J-just a minute!" Wendla sniffed back. She stood and walked to her mirror hanging on the wall, whipping her tears away. Her eyes were puffy and red. She tried applying some base, but that didn't seem to help. She thought of applying mascara, but knew that her mother would take notice of this and scold her for wasting the little that she had. Wendla inevitably gave up and walked into the dining room, taking her place at the seat closest to her mother. She looked at the empty table, even her father's usual place was unattended to.

"Where is Papa?" Wendla asked her mother as Frau Bergman entered the room carrying to plates filled with potatoes and cabbage. If her mother noticed her tears and useless cover up, she didn't show it.

"He had to go out of the town for the week. So it will be just you and I for a while."

Wendla sighed. "Lovely."

* * *

Wendla listened intently to her mother's bedroom door. She had been like this for a few minutes. She didn't want to make her move until she was certain that her mother was asleep. It wasn't long before she heard very loud snores coming from within the room. Wendla smiled as she reached for the doorknob and gently opened the door of her mother's bedroom. Wendla glanced around the room and immediately found her item of interest, her mother's purse. It always lay just a little ways under her bed. It was a very bright red color, making it noticeable in the dark, even in shadow. Wendla tip-toed over to her mother's bed, leaned down, and snatched the purse. After a little shuffling, she found her mother's money pouch. She extracted just enough so that her mother wouldn't notice, and then returned to her room, thanking the Lord that her mother was a heavy sleeper.

Wendla had decided to live on the streets. She had packed her essentials as her mother prepared for bed that night. She was going to leave the supervision of her mother so that she could be there for the ones that truly need her, her friends. "I think that should cover everything," Wendla whispered to herself as she closed her briefcase and snapped it's lock. Wendla stood up and walked to the door, stopping only for a brief, "Sorry, Mama," as she headed into the darkness.

The streets were silent, cold. Not a streetlamp was burning as she walked the familiar path to the main square. Wendla had already thought of the perfect spot for her to stay. The alley behind the butcher was one of the smallest alleys in the town, but she would have a good supply of meat, as long as she found it before it had been sitting in the dumpster too long; and it was also closer to her school, so that she could continue her education. Wendla had just turned on the proper alley when she noticed a figure in the pale blue darkness. It wore green and seemed to flow with the wind as it approached her.

"Wendla?" asked the figure in a voice that Wendla could recognize anywhere.

"Ilse! What are you-" Wendla started but could not continue as she found Ilse's hand over her lips.

"You must be quiet here," Ilse said before lowering her hand. "Now, what are you doing here?"

"I have decided to live on the streets," Wendla said, matter-of-factly.

"And why on earth would you want to do that?" Ilse asked, looking at her childhood friend in amazement. "Do you have any idea what it's like out here?"

"No, but I expect that you could show me now that you're here," Wendla said, pulling Ilse in for an embrace. "Oh, I've missed you so."

"And I, you," Ilse said, pushing Wendla away. "But how did you end up like this? Did you disobey your mother, or worse, your father?"

"In a way," Wendla said, explaining the whole story to Ilse, starting at the conversation that her mother had explained to her what love-making truly meant. Ilse listened in silence with a completely blank expression.

Once Wendla was done, Ilse roughly turned her around and pushed her back down the alleyway. "You shouldn't be here. This is not the life for you," Ilse said, continuing to push Wendla. "You have so much in store for you, Wendla. I'm not going to let you throw it away as if it her trash."

Wendla dug her heels into the ground, stopping Ilse's pushing. "No, Ilse. I have to be there for my friends. Without me to rely on, they could end up dead, by their own hand. Please tell that you wouldn't want that for Moritz." At the mention of Moritz's name, Ilse stopped her pushing. She seemed to be remembering a distant memory, one that Wendla wasn't going to interrupt. If this were to convince her to stay together, she wouldn't interrupt it for the world.

"All right," Ilse said after what seemed like several hours, "I am heading towards a man. This particular man requires needs that only women can provide. Needs similar to the ones that your mother described. He will be expecting those needs to be fulfilled as soon as I arrive. Wendla, would you be willing to follow me and help me fulfill his needs? Know that if you say yes, you can never turn back." Wendla tilted her head slightly, contemplating what Ilse was offering. Could she truly give away everything that she had to give, and expect nothing in return? Ilse stood in front of her silently, waiting for a response. Wendla, suddenly recalled her feelings towards Moritz that she had felt earlier that day, and the way Melchior's skin felt against hers... Maybe it was time that she felt something more then a remembrance, something that could have been. If she wanted to feel anything, she would need to make the call. This call was a one that she felt would lead her to a happier tomorrow, even if it was dark as she nodded and took Ilse's hand, following her into the night.

* * *

Hope everyone enjoyed and please, please, please review!


	16. Pursuit

Here it is everyone! The next installment! Sorry, it took so long. I've been crazy busy this last month or so. Hope you guys enjoy!

Disclaimer: To train them is my cause!

**Pursuit**

"Wendla is missing." These were the first three words that Moritz Stiefel was awakened to that morning.

"W-what?" Moritz asked blindly as he looked around the room. It was Melchior's room and it was in quite a disarray at the moment.

"Wendla's missing," Melchior repeated, his head and torso appearing from underneath his bed with a pair of beaten up shoes. Moritz's eyes widened.

"What are we to d-do, Melchi?" Moritz asked, turning to his friend.

"Why, go out and find her, of course," Melchior replied, sitting down on his bed and shoving the shoes on their respective foot. Moritz had only just noticed that Melchior was completely dressed. Groggily, Moritz slipped out of bed and began looking for clothes to wear.

"Where are we going to search for her?" Moritz asked, finding a decent pair of trousers.

"Well, we'll start at the woods. Then, we'll make our way to the next town and ask if anyone's seen her. If they have, we'll tread on; but if they haven't, we'll return here for the night and then move on to the village across the lake and repeat the process," Melchior said calmly. Moritz breathed a sigh of relief as he buttoned up his trousers. Melchior always knew just what to do. This plan was bound to work.

Moritz shoved his head through his newly-found shirt as a thought struck him. "What if she h-hasn't been seen in any of the nearby t-towns?"

"Then we'll tread on until we find her," Melchior answered simply. Moritz knew this would be the answer.

"So, s-shall we pack up all are belongings now and become v-vagabonds, or do you want us to wait until we have explored all of the nearby towns?" Moritz asked, furrowing his brow as he searched the floor for his shoes. Where had that burst come from?

"If you wish to pack up all of your belongings now, you're free to. I, however, will wait," Melchior said with a slight smile.

Moritz sat on his bed, blinking at his roommate. "You're s-serious?" Melchior gave a swift nod. Moritz's head tilted a little. "B-but, Melchi, what of your education?"

"What of it? You've lost your education and seem to be fairing quite well," Melchior said, handing Moritz a shoe.

"'Well,' ha! The only w-way that I can live is by staying with a friend of mine and working like a pack-mule at a job I d-despise," Moritz said, snatching the shoe from Melchior's hand. "A job I will l-lose if I become a vagabond."

"Moritz, you do realize that you're talking about Wendla?" Melchior asked sternly. Moritz's heart suddenly fell into his stomach. He had forgotten exactly what their goal was. Wendla, his angel. He would do anything for her.

"Well, w-when you put it like that..." Moritz said, slipping on his shoes.

"I knew you would see it my way," Melchior said, standing and giving Moritz a friendly tap on the shoulder. "Come, let us pack some food, so we won't be tempted by the merchants."

Moritz followed Melchior out and into the kitchen. They silently prepared two servings of bread and cheese for both of them, and folded the food in a large cloth before filling both their canteens to the brim with water. Then, as quiet as mice, the two boys left that Gabor home and headed for the woods. Moritz looked at the rising sun with a strange sense of hope and fear. The eerie red glow exposed the beaten path to the woods, but both of the boys knew the way by heart.

"M-Melchi?" Moritz asked as they came upon the first few branches.

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry about snapping at you b-before," Moritz said, looking at the red-speckled ground.

"Don't worry about it, Moritz. I can understand that you're scared. I am too, but we're in this together." Melchior looked back at Moritz, grinning from ear to ear. Moritz returned a shy smile before stumbling on a rather large particle of dirt. Melchior laughed and turned to face his friend. Moritz could feel heat come to his face as he glared at the ground. "Besides, you're always a bit of a grump in the morning." The heat didn't disappear from Moritz's face, but his glare was shifted to his friend. Melchior laughed again before turning and continuing on his route. Moritz breathed deeply a few times, gaining back what self-control he had and trotted after his friend.

* * *

Tell me what you think!


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